A Prince and His Lion
by TheExplosiveBubble
Summary: A dark and stormy night, Germany finds company with his brother and his brother's stories... slight Prussia/Germany, lotsa history! Secret Santa exchange @ LJ


_For lilhowlet on LJ - Secret Santa Winter Exchange on the Mein Bruder community_

**"A Prince and His Lion"**

Feet padded down the corridor hurriedly, bare soles sinking into the thick, carpeted floors. A loud crash speared the quiet, and the little boy trembled as the walls around him also trembled. Nights were too long and darkness, too unforgiving. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and reached out a hand—the blindness of his mind more comforting than the darkness of the hall. His darkness did not simper and whine in hidden corners, did not reach out its withering fingers to tangle in his clothing, in his hair. Thunder crashed again. The boy thought of cannons and war. His darkness was no longer welcoming.

He yelped and jumped forward, his hand colliding with the metal and wood of a door. He sunk his teeth into his lip, barely able to withhold his whimpers, but the telltale stream of light on the floor marked this door as the one he wanted. The doorknob whined in quiet protest, but the boy was patient, slowly turning the knob. He opened it until there was tiny crack and looked inside the room.

The usual sight met his eyes. The older man sitting at his desk, head bowed, the candlelight flickering and dying. White light flooded the room in an instant when lightning streaked across the sky, shining into the tall windows. The man's hand jerked a little at the light, but quickly, he resumed his hasty scribbling on paper the boy could not see.

Just as the boy had nearly mustered his courage to speak up, a gravelly voice interrupted him.

"Oi. Go back to sleep." Red eyes glanced in his direction, and he felt himself shrink from the doorway. "I know you're there."

A menacing flash of lightning again illuminated the room, and the boy, flinching nevertheless, pushed the door open completely. A cackle made the room shake, or at least, that is what the boy thought. He could not let himself be daunted—not after the long trek to the room.

"I could not sleep," the boy murmured before quietly adding, "Bruder."

The man's nose wrinkled at the endearment. "I'm not your brother more than any other of the German states, kid." A wicked glimmer entered the crimson. "Besides, how could a tough soldier like you suffer insomnia? Scared of the dark? Frightened by the scary thunder?"

The boy—who was a little more than a boy, a little less than a man—frowned, and a crease made itself comfortable between his eyes. But another loud crash outside deprived him of any words, and when he came to and found himself looking up into dark red eyes, he shoved himself away from the man, face darkened with embarrassment.

"It's just a little thunder." The older man's voice verged on taunting.

The boy tightened his fists and held his arms taut at his sides. "I can leave."

"Hey," the other man almost chastised as he grabbed the boy's arm. "Suddenly, you're acting all subdued and saying you'll leave? At least try to be more forceful." He scoffed. "You call yourself a German state."

The boy frowned, hurt written on his face. "You always make fun of me."

"Gott! Because you are too easy to tease!" The older man stared at him before sighing and frowning in annoyance. "Sit down already if you want to make yourself comfortable."

Watching confusedly, the boy saw the man light another candle, but when red eyes were turned toward him again, he dove for the nearby bed. He tucked his feet under him and, staring through the fringe of pale blond hair, waited.

"I can tell you a story," the man finished his words. "You always liked that when you were younger."

Eyes blinked as the man quickly dropped onto the bed himself and scrunched his face up in thought.

"But you always said before—"

"Oi. Kid. I'm thinking. Don't ruin the moment."

*...*

_Once upon a time, there was the son of a king who feared nothing..._

_Absolutely nothing?_

_It's a story! Just shut your mouth and listen! As I said, the son of a king...who feared nothing..._

A little boy pushed open the door of the servants' kitchen, pushing out into the nippy, autumn air. He quickly ran outside, savoring the freedom, the feel of the wind against his skin. But another small boy—with silver hair and red eyes—made him freeze in surprise.

The two could only stare at each other.

"You are?"

"Frederich! Come here at once! Your father wishes to see you!"

Turning on his heels, the prince quickly looked over his shoulder again for the oddly colored boy, but the other had disappeared. Frederich felt the tiniest of a chill slither down his back as he wondered if the other boy had been nothing more than a ghost.

_Since this fearless prince was utterly awesome and amazing, he wanted to run away from his father and see the world. But he came across the house of a giant—who, should I add, was not awesome. But anyway, this giant—being a completely unawesome giant—started talking to the prince and started demanding things. _

Voices whispered together hurriedly in the corridor, but whenever the young prince came within earshot, the gossip would stop, and they would dip their heads as he passed.

He gritted his teeth. He was no fool nor was he unfamiliar with the tales about his father. He knew how maniacal and controlling his father was. As the heir, he had to deal with the man more than anyone else.

The prince glanced over his shoulder, prompted yet again by a cold chill, but he only glimpsed the edge of a white cape, retreating around the corner.

_The giant told the prince that there was an apple which he wanted in a nearby garden. Tch. Of course he can do that! What's so scary about a little garden? That giant was...a _giant_ wimp! Ha! So, anyway, he told the giant that. Well, according to the coward giant, he had been scared shitless by a couple of "wild beasts" as he called them. Really, the beasts were just a little scary... Okay, they were a lot scary._

The metallic scent of blood lingered on the air, and should the young knight strain his ears, he might hear the crackling of fire or the tears of someone mourning a loved one. A feral grin stretched his childlike face, and he laughed in glee at the carnage about him.

"What pathetic people!" he proclaimed, skipping about in the blood and gore, splattered on the battlefield. "The empire decides that we invade, and they can only hold a stick up in horror as take over! Ha! So pathetic!"

The body of a child—with the mind of a heartless warrior—gazed upon his new land with nothing short of adoration.

"Someday," he said to himself fondly, "This will not belong to those weak Baltics. But to me!" He laughed again, not caring who listened. "The great Pru—"

_But anyway, the prince told the giant that no beasts could scare him away, and he would go to the garden and get the apple...for the weak, son of a bitch giant._

_Is that really how the story goes?_

_Consider it liberty of the storyteller. What did I tell you about shutting up?_

"King? I'm shocked that man can even admit his own mortality long enough to make such demands!" A young Frederich huffed as he walked quickly in whatever direction he believed no one to be. "Of course I'll be king someday, but the good Lord knows, that beast of a man shall not be the one to instruct me in the 'correct' ways of monarchs!"

Releasing a fierce growl, he spit on the ground. But as he stared at the spittle running down a pair of dark shoes, he looked up and nearly yelped in surprise as he came face-to-face with the strange boy. Red eyes blinked lazily at him, a wooden sword clutched limply in his pale hands.

"You," Frederich managed after several minutes. "You're the boy I have seen all these years? ...are you real?"

The red-eyed boy ignored the question. "Are you afraid to be king?"

Frederich looked taken aback. "Why would I be afraid?"

"Because of the hideous example of your maniacal father," came the prompt reply.

Frederich raised an eyebrow. "You speak rather freshly for such a young boy. Again, I must ask, are you even real?"

To the prince's surprise, the boy's serious expression melted, and the boy threw his head back and laughed.

"I'm more real than you can ever imagine, prince of Prussia!" The boy's teeth glinted as he grinned at Frederich. "Now, you, don't ignore my question. Are you afraid?"

Frederich paused, feeling oddly connected to this bizarre boy. "...No, I am not afraid."

The boy's head of silver hair bobbed as he nodded. "Then take it."

"What?"

"Take the monarchy for yourself."

_When he got to the garden, the beasts that surrounded it were all asleep. Very bad guards, if you want my humble opinion. Anyway, the prince just waltzed into the garden, plucked the apple off the tree, and left. Happy day for the giant, I suppose. But guess what! He tried to give the apple away to a lovely maiden, and the girl told him to shove it because he had been a weak pussy who couldn't be bothered to fetch the apple himself. Smart girl. Being the maniacal and spoiled bastard that he was, however, the giant took it out on the prince and gouged his eyes out. Like I said, giants are totally unawesome._

Standing in the doorway of a cell, the boy had grown taller—his hair as silver as ever, his eyes as red as the blood that had spilled from his friend only hours before.

"Leave," the prince managed in his raspy voice. "I do not need the ghosts of my past reminding me of my wrongs."

The red-eyed boy blinked at him. Frederich sharply turned his face toward the boy, his young face twisted in despair and rage. His eyes shone dully in the dim light.

"I did as you suggested, you demon!" His lip curled. "Now? A failed effort and a needlessly lost life. Leave me so that I will not be haunted by the blood of your eyes."

Frederich's head dropped before another choked sob escaped him, and the boy silently left the cell, never having spoken a word.

_But even though he was a blind, there came a lion that guarded the prince from the giant. The giant tried to lead the blinded prince to a cliff, hoping that the prince would walk too far to the edge and fall off. The lion kept him from falling._

He was a free man who felt nothing more than emptiness and anger inside. He walked free from his cell but under the bondage of his name—a name he shared with a man who was only a monster masquerading as a human—he could do nothing. He had been married the week before, but like other noblewomen he had met, Frederich saw nothing but a pale creature who excelled at being proper and weak. He despised all of it.

He flinched lightly when he heard footsteps crunching the ground behind him.

"You're not really just a boy, are you?" he asked without turning around, expecting the same phantom who had haunted him for years to be standing behind him. "Just what are you, exactly?"

The boy was so close; he could hear him breathing—could hear the hitch in his breath.

"I am...not like you," he said shortly, hesitatingly; "I have already lived the lives of many men, though I look younger than you. I am a warrior, born only to fight. I am not like you because I cannot die. Only humans who become overly attached to temporary things and people can die."

Frederich finally braved a glance at the boy. As expected, the red eyes nearly blinded him with their intensity.

"Yes, but _what_ are you?"

The boy grinned, his canines glinting slightly. "I am Pru—"

_He and that lion became pretty good buddies. When the giant tried another time to trick the prince into walking off the cliff, the lion rescued the prince and pushed the giant over the edge instead. The lion, as he had done many times before, led the prince away from the danger of the cliff and took him to a spring. He sprinkled some water from the spring into the prince's eye sockets, and his eyes miraculously grew back. But his journey wasn't done yet! He and the lion traveled together, and when they came upon the castle of a lovely maiden—they seem to exist in a lot of these stories—they discovered that she was cursed. They had to spend three nights in the castle, enduring the torture of the demons who lived there in order to break the curse._

_The first night..._

"You are barely crowned king, and your first move is to invade Silesia?" The boy smirked. "I like your style."

The young king clicked his tongue, although a smile played on his lips. "It was hardly uncalled for, really. That land didn't belong to them in the first place. Austria was being presumptuous."

Darkness entered the silver-haired boy's face. "Yes, he is often like that."

Frederich blinked curiously at the boy, deciding it best to not ask.

_The prince successfully survived the first night, and the maiden came to him and healed his wounds. Though she praised him for his strength and bravery, she warned him that he still had two more nights and wished him the best of luck._

_The second night..._

The young man pushed the door open, eyes immediately resting on the middle-aged man in the room. The older man did not notice him at first, too busy examining papers and looking, altogether, far too stressed.

"Long night, eh, Fritz?"

The man jumped at the voice, but when he looked up and saw the visiting warrior, he gave a thin smile in greeting.

"Oh...Gilbert. My hearing is not what it used to be. I wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that."

The young man gave his signature grin, shrugging with one shoulder. "I almost never see you nowadays. How can I miss my opportunity to possibly give you a premature heart attack?"

Frederich gave the nation a mock glare. "And for whose benefit would that be?"

A bitter smile twisted the warrior's face, but Frederich did not see it.

"Russia, apparently," the man muttered bitterly.

"How goes the front?"

The young man shrugged. "How goes the paperwork? In my eyes, it can be just as nasty as a wound on the battlefield."

Frederich rubbed at his forehead, but another smile had worked its way onto his face.

"The Russian monarch has passed," he replied almost cheerfully.

His smile was returned in full by the triumphant expression on the young nation.

"Well, that is good news."

_The second night was harder than the first, but as she had done before, the maiden came down to the prince and healed all of his words. 'One more night,' she reminded him. She probably did something sappy and romantic like batting her eyes and kissing him on the forehead, but who knows. These maidens were usually prudes, too. Maybe she flashed a little bit of her ankle and told the prince there was more where that came from if he succeeded! Ha! Quickest way to a man's heart is through his dick!_

_...Bruder, the story..._

_Oh, be patient. I'm getting there._

_The third night..._

Frederich stood on the used battlefield, feeling the warmth of the ground cooling underneath him.

"This war is ours, Gilbert," he said, a large smile across his face. He looked back at the nation, the silver-haired man nursing a wound on his left arm. "The Russians?"

"Practically itching to leave," the silver-haired man replied, a small sneer on his face.

"They are our allies, now, Gilbert," Frederich reminded him in a voice that verged on patronizing.

The nation snorted. "The common people might be allies while led by that foolish man. But I have known Russia longer than that."

Frederich gave a knowing look toward the silver haired man. "Please, Gilbert. Do not ruin this glorious day for Prussia with your sulking. We shall worry about Russia and her resentment toward us at a later time. Tonight, we celebrate victory."

When Frederich began to pass by the young man who had grown taller than him in the past few years, he laid a hand on the shoulder, and red eyes looked up at him.

"His," the warrior nation whispered.

Frederich blinked. "His? What?"

"You said 'Russia and her'." The young man's face remained devoid of emotion. "Russia and his."

Silence reigned between the two of them for nearly a minute before Frederich managed another smile, albeit a strained one.

"You say some of the funniest things, Gilbert." He patted the other's shoulder once more and left him—red eyes staring blearily at the war stained land.

* ... *

The boy's eyes had shut, and the man paused in his story to look at him. Outside, the lightning had ceased, and had he strained his ears, he could hear the gentle hum of raindrops hitting the side of the castle. At first, looking awkward more than anything, he stood up and pulled some of blankets out from under the sleeping boy's body so that he could cover him. But as he did so, the boy stirred.

"The ending?" he murmured groggily. "Did the prince set the maiden free and win her?"

The older man paused, eyes blinking slowly at the question. He tucked the edges of the blanket around the boy's shoulders, his face set in an uncharacteristically serious expression. He pursed his lips as he thought of what to say. _No, the prince died too soon to have the maiden. She only became independent of her castle several decades after his death. So, no happy ending for him! Ahaha! _He shook his head lightly and brushed some of the hair from the boy's face.

Blue eyes squinted up at him, and moments like those, the older nation felt something tug inside of him. He managed a smirk and leaned forward as though about to divulge in a great secret.

"And they lived," he said, drawling each syllable, "happily ever after."

Content with the answer, the boy once again closed his eyes. Only minutes passed, and the boy's breathing had slowed into the long, deep sighs of sleeping. Never did the man take his eyes off of the boy's face. Sure that the boy slept, he leaned forward and stole a kiss, his calloused hand cupping the youth's warm cheek.

"It would seem," he murmured to the shadows in the room, "that the lion has received his happily ever after. May the prince rest in peace."

He lifted the edge of some blankets and slid into bed next to the boy, careful to not wake him. Looking down at that face once more—the soft jaw hinting at the man he would become in due time—red eyes curved as the man smiled. He blew the candles out and lay next to his brother—the lion with his maiden.

**END **

EPIC LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE:

The story is the Prussia version of real Grimm's fairy tale—"The King's Son Who Feared Nothing."

As a random note, I wanted the wild beasts surrounding the garden to represent the Teutonic Knights—which Prussia was. The Teutonic Knights first invaded the Baltic Prussians in the 13th century. Firstly, the land would be a useful place for training the knights. Secondly, being a part of the many crusades during this time, the knights were supposed to bring Christianity to the northern pagans. To say the least, many of the native Prussians were slaughtered.

Frederick was in a cell because he was imprisoned under court martial for treason. He and his friend Hans Herman von Katte had planned to escape Prussia and leave to Great Britain. There is a theory that the two were going to get on the good side of George II of Britain and use this favor to invade Prussia and forcibly take the throne from Frederick's father. The plan was thwarted, and they were caught before they could fully escape. Frederick's father wanted to execute both of them, but since he could find no way to have his son killed (without the Holy Roman Empire being extremely angry with him), he simply had his friend's sentence changed from life imprisonment to execution. He forced Frederick to be present when his friend was killed. Without going into detail, I believe it can be understood that Frederick's father was not only cruel but was also rumored to have been clinically insane.

Shortly after becoming king in 1740, Frederick II did invade a region of Silesia. According to a previous treaty, the land was supposed to belong to the state of Bradenburg.

The second night simply took place during the Seven Years' War when Prussia had allied with England against Austria, Russia, France, and Sweden. Russia's monarch did die during the war, and following the czarina's death, the Russian troops were immediately pulled out of the war by her successor.

The third night represents the Battle of Burkersdorf on July 21, 1762. The foolish man is a reference to Peter III of Russia who had succeeded Elizabeth of Russia—the former monarch who had led Russia against the Prussians in war. Apparently, he admired Frederick II and wished to fight _with_ him and not against him. The Battle of Burkersdorf, however, was mostly fought between Prussian and Austrian soldiers. It was a Prussian victory.

Lastly, the maiden represented a young Germany. The Holy Roman Empire dissolved in 1806. Frederick II—who was represented by the prince of the story—died in 1786.

Well...that was a lot of history, haha.. I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading 'til the bitter end!


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